


devil in my bloodstream

by agitatedstates



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Compliant, Get Together, M/M, Meeting the Parents, musician au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 19:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20069032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agitatedstates/pseuds/agitatedstates
Summary: “I keep a flashlight, and the train times. But you wouldn’t understand, how could you understand?”Ignis can’t even hear the next part over the roar of the crowd, and he wonders how Prompto could ever get used to this. The way he grins as people shout the words back at him, its something Ignis wishes he could see for the rest of his life. It’s like the sun shines from him, and Prompto could light up any room with just the look on his face. Ignis can’t draw himself away.orFive times ignis experienced Promptos life through his music, and one time prompto saw his music through ignis.





	devil in my bloodstream

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda my baby, and hasnt been beta read so i apologise in advance but i was too excited. all songs in this are by the wonder years, from the greatest generation! anyway, enjoy my self indulgent prompto is a musician AU!

  1. Passing through a screen door. 

There’s a mumble through the venue, a hum as the drummer on stage tests her kit. Ignis doesn’t care much for the situation, sweaty and stifling. It’s not as if he hadn’t been to concerts before, hadn’t listened to the music, but tonight seems to set him on edge. He keeps checking the corner of his eye, making sure Noctis is safe. Gladio sticks to his side, seemingly casual, but Ignis knows him. He’s assessing the room as he chats to Noct, Gladio knows his job is never done. 

Ignis doesn’t know how they convinced him to come out to this bar in the middle of Downtown Insomnia, to a dingy punk show with bands he’d never heard of. Prompto insisted on it, promising a good show and a surprise. They’re up to the headlining band and Prompto still hasn’t shown up, and Ignis tries not to be frustrated. 

Ignis doesn’t know Prompto as well as he wishes he did, as well as Noctis and Gladio seem to, but Ignis knows well enough that he wouldn’t have stood them up with no reason, and he only hopes nothing bad has come of him. The lights dim, and the hum becomes more, something excited and _ ready. _The drummer looks familiar, a girl Ignis recognises as one of Prompto’s few friends outside of the three of them.

The rest of the band runs out, and Ignis tries to process what he’s seeing. He sees a familiar mop of blonde hair, already drooping under the heat of the lights. Ignis whips his head around to watch Noctis, and finds he’s whooping with excitement as he watches Ignis’ reaction. The little shit _ knew, _and Gladio cheers as Prompto takes the centre microphone, guitar in hand. 

“Hi, we’re The Greatest Generation, and this song is called Passing Through a Screen Door”

“_ Cigarette smoke dances back in the window, and I can see the haze on the dome light” _

Guitars blast immediately, as Prompto all but screams into the microphone. Ignis is taken aback by the immediate movement of the crowd, of the clear love the audience gives him. 

“_ I'm conjuring ghosts, on a forty hour ride home and they keep asking me what I'm doing with my life” _

The Prompto he knows all but disappears on stage, full of confidence, and the energy that normally bubbles underneath the surface is out, and Ignis is enraptured. 

_ “I was born to run away from anything good, an escape artist's son, sun-drenched pavement in my blood” _

Ignis is shocked, unable to take his eyes away. That’s _ Prompto, _ shy little Prompto, singing his heart out on a stage in front of a practically overflowing room. Something in Ignis’ heart flutters, a feeling he’s tried to press down more than he’d like to admit. There’s a certain feeling he gets when he looks at Prompto, the same feeling he got when he saw that _ one boy _ in highschool, the glaive that everyone swooned over, and Ignis knows he’s in deep.

“_ The first thing that I do when I walk in, is find a way out for when shit gets bad! and i’ve been looking for tears in the screen door. I’ve been waiting for another disaster.” _

Ignis wishes he knew the words, wishes he could scream along the way Noctis and Gladio do. There’s something primal in him, that wants to be next to Prompto, with him.

“_ And it’s all a lie, what they say about stability. It scares me sometimes, the emptiness I see in my eyes. And all the kids names i’ve ever liked, are tied to tragedies” _

Ignis knew he was gay before he even knew what being gay meant, but there was something that stopped him from _ saying _it. Maybe it was knowledge he could never really dedicate himself to someone, that so much of his life is connected to Noctis. He thinks maybe Prompto is his one shot of someone who would understand. 

_ “And I was kinda hoping you’d stay, I was kinda hoping you’d stay” _

Prompto actually starts to stare out, and Ignis feels his throat tighten as Prompto looks to the back of the venue, sees the three of them and _ grins, _so bright and blinding. 

_ “I keep a flashlight and a small knife, in the corner of my bed stand” _

Noctis moves up to Ignis, wraps an arm around his shoulders and belts out the words. No one pays them any mind, and Gladio takes the other side of Noctis. Ignis wonders how many of these shows they’ve been to, how long they’ve known the words. He wants to be a part of Prompto's life like that. 

“_ I keep a flashlight, and the train times. But you wouldn’t understand, how could you understand?” _

Ignis can’t even hear the next part over the roar of the crowd, and he wonders how Prompto could ever get used to this. The way he grins as people shout the words back at him, its something Ignis wishes he could see for the rest of his life. It’s like the sun shines from him, and Prompto could light up any room with just the look on his face. Ignis can’t draw himself away.

The chorus repeats over again, and Ignis finds himself singing along. 

“_ I was kinda hoping you’d stay!” _

Ignis wants to know why Prompto wrote these songs, who they’re about. He wants to know everything and more, wants to know what makes him wake up in the morning and what helps him go to bed. 

Ignis wants to be there with Prompto, and that’s when Ignis finds himself finally admitting that he’s sort of head over heels for him. He can’t find it in himself to mind it too much.

He makes eye contact from across the venue, or at least he tells himself that they did. He likes to think the smile that seems to grow impossibly wider is for him, but he knows that Prompto probably saw the three of them at the back there. 

But little lies won’t hurt Ignis too much, it’s the little things that get him by. He lies to himself, thinking that Prompto could ever like someone like Ignis, boring and uneventful, dedicated nearly entirely to Noctis, compared to Prompto, who lights up the room and takes over the stage. 

How could Prompto ever love someone like Ignis? Ignis is just happy to be by his side however he can. Just being his friend is enough. 

* * *

  1. A raindance in traffic

Ignis discreetly buys a copy of Promptos CD before he can notice, and spends most of his private time listening to it. He remembers the way Prompto swung himself onto Ignis the moment he saw him, sweaty and beaming as he thanked Ignis for coming. Ignis couldn’t help but smile back just as wide, enamoured by the way Prompto looks at him.

Ignis is driving, which seems to be the _ only _ thing he’s been doing recently. He wonders what he’s even doing, really, but he’s thankful for the time alone that the errands seem to give him, since he’s been using the time to listen to Prompto’s music. It’s been surreal, hearing these songs and knowing that they come from _ Prompto. _The Prompto that cries when he watches romantic comedies and stays up all night playing video games with Noctis. 

Ignis feels like he sees Prompto in a new light now, and he can’t say he’s upset about it. It’s not a _ bad _light, more a different one. Like Ignis can finally see pieces of Prompto he’d never been able to before, since Prompto is surprisingly open in his songs. Ignis knows the words now, has known them since the first day, when he did nothing but listen to the album on repeat. 

“_ I’m fantasizing about doing a raindance in traffic” _

Ignis has been too much of a coward to ask Prompto on a date. Prompto told them all, rather drunkenly one night almost a week ago, that he was gay, and Noctis just laughed and said “same”.

Ignis hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, about the hopeful look on Prompto's face as he looked at Ignis, and how his throat closed up. All he could do was smile at Prompto, unable to bring up the words that he’s gay too. Even _ Gladio _ said something, and all Ignis could do was clam up and _ stare _ at Prompto. 

“_ I’m fantasizing about a storm to wash me away” _

Ignis can barely see the road ahead through the rain around him, but he keeps going anyway. There’s things to do, and nothing as trivial as the weather can stop him. He’s tired, so tired, and it’s taking all of him to _ not _have a breakdown. He’s only twenty-one, and for the first time in his life he feels like he’s in over his head. 

_ “If you'd study the laugh-lines, you'd see that I'm cracking, I spent six months now feeling like dead weight” _

He sees someone running down the street, a jacket over their head to try and protect them. Ignis squints, trying to figure out why they look _ familiar. _ It isn’t until they give up with the jacket and jog a little faster that he recognises it as _ Prompto. _Before Ignis even can think about it, he’s putting down his window and shouting out to him.

Promptos head whips around, the disgruntled frown turning into what Ignis considers the best smile this side of Eos. Ignis doesn’t even have time to turn off his radio before he’s pulling up and letting Prompto into the car.

_ “The fighter in me must have died a long time ago, I must have been watching his ghost; Just going through the motions, just putting on a face.” _

“Gods Iggy you’re such a lifesaver, I dont have change for the bus and im still like five blocks away from ho-”

Prompto hesitates, staring at the radio as the song continues on. 

_ “Every window in this house faces a brick wall, _ _ I'm panicked and absent like a bird in a cage. The word from the front lines says that we're out-gunned, but I can't walk away, no, I can't walk away.” _

“Ignis, are-” Ignis hasn’t even moved the car again, just staring at his hands on the steering wheel. “Are you listening to my music?”

_ “I was just happy to be a cont _ _ ender, I was just aching for anything” _

“I guess I can’t really lie to you about it” Ignis takes a breath, readying himself. “I’ve listened to it a lot.”

He doesn’t want to say why, to confess that he’s kinda in love with Prompto, Ignis just stares at his hands as they shake. Fuck, this is really not the way he wanted this to happen. Ignis wanted it to be perfect, red roses and everything Prompto deserves 

_ “I used to have such steady hands but now I can't keep 'em from shaking” _

“Iggy?” 

Ignis can’t breathe, can’t see straight, and he suddenly regrets every decision he’s ever made. 

“I’ve written songs about you, Ignis.” 

Prompto leans over the console and kisses him. It takes a minute to respond, for Ignis to register it, but he’s holding onto Promptos face and refuses to let go. This is everything he’s ever dreamed of. He didn’t think it would be in his car, the rain pounding at the window and Promptos cd playing softly in the background, but Promptos lips are soft and his hair is damp and it’s perfect. 

They separate for a moment, the need to breathe taking over. Prompto looks at Ignis like he’s the only person in the world, like the sun shines from him. Ignis wants to count the freckles on his face, wants to tell him everything he’s ever wanted. That he dreams of Prompto, how he thinks he’s the one person who could ever understand him. How he listens to his music and sings along when he drives. 

Prompto’s eyes are a little hooded as he stares at Ignis, and he manages to rasp out a tiny little “Ignis” before Ignis is kissing him again. He needs to make up for lost time, after all.

He knows he has places to be, needs to eventually take Prompto home, but right now he’s content to make out with him like a teenager in his car, and for the first time in what feels like years, he doesn’t feel panic overtaking him. His hands don’t shake as he kisses Prompto, and it’s all he’s ever wanted.

* * *

  1. Teenage parents

Ignis sweats in the car, Prompto sitting beside him in his nicest clothes and trying to still the movement of his hands. Ignis has been to Promptos house before, when his family was away, but with the roadtrip with Noctis steadily approaching, Ignis has to meet the family.

Prompto has always been open about being adopted, about being a lonely child, but his parents have always loved him. They had to work to keep the family afloat, to make sure their kids had a good life. 

_ All we had were hand-me-downs, all we had was good will. _

Ignis can’t pretend to know what it’s like to grow up poor, to know how _ Prompto _ grew up. But he hopes more than anything that they like him, that Ignis makes a good impression.

He got flowers for Promptos dads, and hopes that his older sister doesn’t hate him _ too _ much. Ignis’ mums assured him that it would be fine, but there’s a certain fear about it. What if they don’t? What if they _ hate _him?

“Come on Ignis, they’ll love you” Prompto holds his hand over the console, rubbing circles with his thumb. “It’s pretty hard to _ not _ love you, babe. Pops has been training dad for a week on how to not make a fool of himself”

_ And you always said it would get better, ‘When you're young and you're poor, they hang on your failures.’ and you always said it would get better. _

“Are you sure? Should I have brought something else? Will Maris like me?”

Ignis is still fretting his hands, unable to stop himself from considering the worst situation possible. Gods he feels pathetic, but he’s never even dated someone before Prompto, and meeting his _ family _feels terrifying. Prompto met his mums, made them laugh so hard they cried, and Ignis knows he doesn’t have even half the charm of Prompto. 

Prompto reaches over, grabbing Ignis hands. He holds them between his own, trying to warm them up, and Prompto brings them up to kiss at his knuckles. 

“Hey, after this we can totally make out in my bedroom like teenagers”

“_ Prompto!” _

Ignis can’t help but laugh, pulling his hands from Promptos to cover his giggling. Prompto always knows how to bring the best out of him, how to lift the ever present weight from his shoulders. Ignis feels happy with Prompto, and it’s almost overwhelming to be on the receiving end of his affection, to be at the centre of Promptos world. 

“Come on, dad will start fretting if we take any longer”

Prompto practically bounds out of the car, leaving Ignis to lock up and compose himself. A bouquet of sunflowers in hand, he follows Prompto through the front door, and hopes this goes well for him.

_ Winter of '93, we got by with kerosene, a heater in the living room, we huddled around shivering and me, trying to get to sleep. My clothes will smell of smoke for weeks, just trying to get to sleep. _

“So i'm telling Crowe that if she even wanted to get me anywhere _ near _that cursed motorbike she need to financially compensate me for the therapy i’ll need after-”

Ignis finds Maris really charming, and finds himself enraptured in her stories. She works in a Galahdian bar in the heart of Insomnia, and Ignis is tempted to press her about recipes, and how to get the spices just _ right. _Maris has a tattoo below her right eye, in the shape of an arrow, just like her dads.

Ignis notices the lines on Promptos pops hands, the little markers of their home spread across themselves and their home. He’s noticed Promptos small tattoos, but didn't quite connect them as Galahdian until now. Ignis didn't want to pry, wanted to let Prompto open up in his own time, but this seems to be the way Prompto wanted to show him. 

Prompto talked about being adopted a lot, how Maris was his dads biological daughter. It went unsaid that they escaped from Galahd, and suddenly pieces fall together for Ignis. Prompto's family deserved a better lot than they were given, but they seem more happy than most of the family's Ignis grew up around, and Ignis is just glad to be allowed into their lives. 

“Mr Argentum, dinner was wonderful” Ignis does his best to not be over formal, and makes eye contact with Promptos dad to show _ which _Argentum he meant. “I’d love to learn from you some time”

Prompto squeezes Ignis thigh as his dad gushes over the compliment, and insists that Ignis calls him by his first name. Maris prods at Ignis, mostly because she wants ammunition to use against the ‘glaives who frequent her work. But everyone seems to like him, and Maris only talks about _ the revolution _and the end of the bourgeois once, much to her dads horror. 

After dinner, Prompto drags Ignis up to his bedroom, and it feels comforting more than _ scary. _ Promptos dad kisses his pop goodbye as he leaves for the night shift, and Maris tells Prompto to _ have fun. _ The blush spreads all the way up to Promptos ears as he drags Ignis just a _ little _faster away from his family. 

Promptos room is more of an attic than a bedroom. It’s cute, posters and framed photos across the walls, and Ignis spots a pile of shirts that look suspiciously like his in the corner. Prompto’s mattress is on the ground, in more of the boho chic way than the lazy way, and Ignis finds it suits the both of them as Prompto drags him down onto it.

Prompto fulfills his promise of making out like a couple of teenagers in his bedroom, but it’s perfect. Ignis doesn't need to fantasize about this anymore, he has Prompto literally on top of him, holding his face in his hands like its the only thing that's ever mattered. 

“I love you, Iggy”

Ignis opens his eyes. He hadn’t even realised he closed them. Prompto is staring down at him with only a look of determination, the purple in his eyes more vibrant than they’ve ever been.

“I love you”

He repeats it, like he was afraid Ignis hadn’t heard him properly the first time.

Ignis holds onto Prompto tight, buries his head into his neck, and whispers an _ i love you _ into his skin. He thinks Prompto gets it, from the way he shivers. Ignis will repeat it for the rest of his life if he has to, but he loves him, he loves him, _ he loves him. _

_ I'm sick of seeing ghosts, I won't be here forever, and they always said it would be better. _  


* * *

  1. The devil in my bloodstream

_ Two blackbirds on a highway sign are laughing at me at four in the morning. They played the war drum out of time, so I'm not sure where I've been marching. _

Ignis is glad he can’t see Promptos face. He never thought that would ever cross his mind, but the sound of his body thudding against the ground as he collapsed under his own weight is deafening. Noctis is muttering something to him, comforting words as he tries to lift him up.

“Were you worried about me?”

It’s almost too quiet to hear, so different from the way he normally speaks. Prompto used to fill up a room with just his smile, had crowds screaming words he had written back at him. Prompto throws any sentence he can think of into the universe, but they always seem to work for him, but this is calculated. Ignis wants to cry, thinking about Prompto alone here. He thinks he is crying. 

“Of course I was” Noct whispers back, almost as quiet. Ignis wishes things had been different. He wished they’d taken him, wish they’d _ killed him _ rather than hear Prompto sound this sad.

Gladios hand is on his back, an affirmation to send him forward towards Prompto. He sinks to his knees, reaches for where he hopes Prompto was, and refuses to let go. He cries, cries into Promptos hair and he never wants to lose him again. 

Ignis just says he’s sorry, apologises over and over again. Swears to never lose him again, and Prompto grips onto his shirt like it's the only thing keeping him here. Ignis doesnt want him to ever let go. 

_ So I searched through my great-grandpa's memoirs for the devil in my bloodstream. I've got the same blood coursing through my veins and it'll come for me eventually. _

Prompto and Ignis haven't separated since they found each other again, and the four of them somehow found a room deep in zegnautus keep. Promptos been silent, and it scares Ignis more than anything else. He would go blind a million times, wear the ring for the rest of his life, if it meant Prompto would never have to feel like this. 

Ignis thinks that maybe Prompto fell asleep. He hopes that he has, from the way Gladio explained it, Ignis doubts Promptos slept for days. 

“Ignis?”

Ignis hums, not wanting to disturb the silence. He needs Prompto to talk to him, needs to let him tell him something, anything.

“I-” Prompto chokes up, unable to express what he needs. Ignis rubs at his back, hoping its comforting in some way. It makes him think of Insomnia, quiet nights in Ignis’ apartment. “I was supposed to be an MT”

Ignis lets out a shuddering breath, but keeps the movement of his hand steady. He wants Prompto to keep talking, to let this all out. He can’t imagine the burden of this, what it weighs on him. He loves Prompto, loves him more than anything. 

“I- I was a clone. I am a clone. I don’t know, I can’t even explain it. I'm so scared, Iggy.”

Prompto buries his face into Ignis’ chest, lets himself cry. Ignis kisses the top of his head, begging any god who’ll listen to make Prompto’s life better than this.

“I'm sorry- you don't deserve this. It’s why I have that barcode, there's something _ wrong _with me Iggy” Prompto rests his hand over Ignis’ heart, over the scar that spreads over that side of his body. “You- i won't blame you for leaving me”

“_ Prompto-” _

Ignis wants to cry at the thought of it, never wants to spend his life without him. 

“I would never dream of leaving you” Ignis feels over Promptos face, feels the tears over his face and does his best to wipe them away. “You stood by me after Altissia. I went blind, Prompto, and all you've done is love me just the same. You’re my everything”

Prompto sobs again, buries his head into Ignis neck. Ignis just whispers comforting words to him, does the best he can to soothe the ache in their hearts. 

“I- I don't even know if the band made it out of Insomnia. If Maris did, or my dads. I want to see them again, Iggy. I miss them so much”

Ignis doesn’t know how to take the comment, how to make it any better. He resigned himself to the loss of his mothers, knows they would have stayed near the citadel to the very end. But there's hope for Prompto, that maybe his family was safe. His friends. Ignis imagines their homes in ashes, the little spaces they made for themselves in Insomnia, turned to dust. He lets himself cry too, holding onto Prompto. 

Ignis doesn't know what to do, he feels at a loss for words. He has no control over the situation, no solution, only tears and comforting words that he knows dont change a thing. Ignis just hopes things get better from here. 

_ I bet I'd be a fucking coward, I bet I'd never have the guts for war, cause I can't spend another month away from here, these frantic rest stop phone calls don't get answered anymore. _ _ But I, I wanted to know if I could please come home. _

_ I know how it feels to be at war with a world that never loved me. _

Prompto tells him he has a bad feeling about what's to come. He hasn't seen the sun in days, and if Ignis were honest with him, he’d tell him that the rest of them had barely seen it either. Even a blind man knows the days are growing shorter.

_ I’m hoping I’m wrong. _

_ I wanna be strong. But it’s not easy anymore. _

* * *

  1. I just want to sell out my funeral

_ I just want to sell out my funeral, I just want to be enough for everyone. I just want to sell out my funeral, know that I fought until the lights were gone _

For the first time in a decade, Ignis feels the sun on his face. The roars of daemons slowly fade out, evaporating in the rays of light. Ignis knows what this means, knows what they’ve lost, and if the way Prompto grabs him tells him he understands it too. 

He hears Gladio fall to the ground, too shocked to make any other noise, and Ignis just keeps gripping onto Prompto. He’s his lifeline, his own personal sunshine. He lets Prompto cry into his chest, lets himself cry too. The three of them know what needs to be done, know what Noctis wanted done.

It doesn't make it any easier, or makes it hurt any less. Ignis can’t bring himself to start it, he lets himself feel everything he’s fought against since Altissia, and he buries his face into Promptos hair and hopes he can be strong enough for the both of them.

_ I'll blame the way that I was brought up or the flaws that I was born with or the mistakes that I've made, they're all just fucking excuses. So bury me in the memories of my friends and family, I just need to know that they were proud of me _

It takes all three of them to pry the sword from Noctis’ chest. It thankfully moves in one swift movement, as Noctis stays eerily still in his throne. Ignis wishes he could see him there, just this once, even in this way. 

They find a place in Insomnia, the ground soft and _ beautiful, _ even after all this time. Gladio and Prompto take turns digging, and Ignis just sits there, trying to comprehend it all. Noctis, what's left of Noctis, lies next to him in a blanket. He yearns for a time where this was the furthest thing from his mind. He misses the Noctis who laughed when Ignis saw Prompto sing for the first time, his best friend, his _ brother. _

Prompto sits next to him, rests his head on his shoulder, and hums. Prompto hasn't sung in a long time, said he had no reason to. Half the band made it out of the wreckage, and the other half ended up buried underneath it. There was no time for music in the dark. But he sings now, quiet and reverent, as Ignis hears Gladio place Noctis into the grave they had made for him.

_ “Did you give up and go home? Am I here alone? And oh, when the credits roll, I'll watch as the screen glows, the moments when I choked, all the fears that I've outgrown. At least I hope so” _

Gladio sits with the two of them, as close as he can get to them without smothering. Ignis rests his arm on his shoulder, and listens as he sobs. He loved Noctis, more than anything in this world, really, truly loved him, and Ignis can’t imagine the pain. He keeps his hand steady on Gladios shoulder, and they just listen to Prompto sing through his tears. 

“_ I was just happy to be a contender, I was just aching for anything, and I used to have such steady hands, but now I can't keep them from shaking” _

Ignis joins, unable to think of what else to do. He’s happy to feel the sun on his skin, to hear Prompto sing, despite being rough and out of practice, but it feels wrong. Noctis should be with them. 

“_ I was kind of hoping you'd stay, I need you to stay. Oh, god, could you stay? I need you to stay” _

Gladio cries harder, sniffles the only sound he makes between everything else. Ignis doesn't have the right words, never could have them for this situation. He wants to say Noctis was a good man, a good king, a good friend. Wants to tell stories, talk about him, give him a proper send off, but he also thinks that this is what Noctis would have wanted, a quiet song at his side as the sun rises. 

_ “ Two blackbirds on a highway sign are laughing at me here with my wings clipped, I'm staring up at the sky but the bombs keep fucking falling. There's no devil on my shoulder, he's got a rocking chair on my front porch. But I won't let him in, no, I won't let him in” _

There’s no triumph to this, no victory. What’s a world without Noctis? They barely kept it together for the decade he was gone, how can Ignis continue the rest of his life? He feels so lost, so dejected, as prompto stops singing, unable to keep going. What can they do?

“That was one of Nocts favourite songs” Prompto speaks, and it seems to remind Gladio where he is. “He read it before I recorded it, and he told me that he’d kill me if the band never made it big. Said he’d make it treason to not like us. He was the best friend I could have ever asked for.”

Prompto is surprisingly steady as he says it, but Ignis knows the cracks in his voice, can practically hear the shake in his hands.

“He deserved better than this.” 

None of them dared speak it out loud, but Prompto was right. What's the point of being a good man, a great king, sacrificing himself, when there was nearly nothing left to save. None of them say anything else, not knowing how to really say what they want. They’re happy to stay by Nocts side just a little longer.

_ I know how it's all gonna end, there's no triumph waiting, there's no sunset to ride off in. We all want to be great men and there's nothing romantic about it. I just want to know that I did all I could with what I was given. _

* * *

+1. There, there 

Lestallum has always been too hot. There's no difference between summer and winter here, not really, and Ignis doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to it. Prompto is at work, running the only magazine in town after Vyv passed down the mantle, and Ignis is used to the sound of fans whirring filling the silence in their apartment.

He still feels a sense of gratitude every time he notices the feeling of sunlight, passing by a window and stepping into a slightly warmer spot. He wouldn't mind a slightly cooler environment, but beggars can't be choosers. He’s more than happy to make up for a decade in the dark with a few years in the heat. It’s better than no sun at all.

Ignis sings a lot in his spare time now. He finally allowed Gladio to convince him to take a few days off of work. They’ve been rebuilding for years, Lestallum can survive a day without him. But in the meantime, Ignis hums a tune as he washes the dishes, and sings quietly, just for him.

“_ You're just trying to read but I'm always standing in your light, you're just trying to sleep but I always wake you up to apologize. I’m sorry I don’t laugh at the right times” _

Ignis dances to the tune in his head, hums it out, and he knows it like his own heartbeat. Prompto started singing publicly again, reforming the band with people here in Lestallum, and it brings a form of normalcy back to them. Ignis feels content to hear Prompto singing again, even when its just in their home.

Ignis reminds himself that’s his husband, who pours his heart out every time he performs, no matter the crowd. It’s one of Ignis’ favourite things about him, his unconfined joy. Ignis always saw Prompto as his own personal sunshine, and he wouldn’t be here without him.

_ “I know how it seems when I always sing to myself in public, I babble on like a mad man. I know how it seems when I'm always staring off into nothing, I'm lost in my head again.” _

Ignis doesnt hear the door open and close, doesn't hear footsteps approaching him as he sings, but he does hear Prompto sing the next line. 

“_ I’m sorry I don’t laugh at the right times.” _

Ignis is thankful he only drops the plate into the sink, but he isn't thankful for it shattering on impact. Prompto laughs as he curses, heading towards Ignis and helping to clean up. There’s a peck on the cheek, on the lips, and Ignis finds himself forgiving his husband for the scare. 

“Sorry Iggy, didn't mean to scare you! Or the poor plate!”

Ignis finds himself laughing, even though Prompto has become a little lame in his age. Gladio quietly informed Ignis of the grey hairs they were _ all _ starting to get, and Ignis is only a little bit mad about it. He's a tiny bit glad he can't see the wrinkles on his skin, but he can sure feel Promptos _awful _goatee.

Prompto finishes up the dishes in penance, and hugs Ignis from behind as he drinks coffee. 

“Were you really singing one of my songs to yourself?”

Ignis feels the heat rise in his cheeks, and hides his face as he nods. Prompto grins into his neck, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. At least, in Ignis’ opinion.

“I meant it when I said I wrote songs for you. I was kinda in love with you from the start. It’s embarrassing.” Prompto laughs at himself, and Ignis is still hiding his blush at the fact that Prompto liked him _ that much. _“Probably doesn't seem like it, but that song was always for you. It’s yours, Iggy”

Ignis actually turns himself around, and he’s kissing Prompto before he has a chance to say more and make Ignis actually cry. They’ve been together for nearly fifteen years, and Prompto never fails to surprise him, even in moments like this. Ignis wishes he could return the favour, in some way let Prompto know the extent of his love.

He’d write symphonies for him. But he hopes kissing him will be enough, because Ignis is content to spend the rest of his life here, doing that. 

_ I'm sorry I don't laugh at the right times. Is this what it feels like with my wings clipped? I'm awkward and nervous, I'm awkward and nervous _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! now watch me cry forever lmao. comment and kudos if you feel like it tho! 
> 
> twitter: pitiossruins


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